Lost Innocence
It's dark outside as I sit in my office atop the tower of my mighty corporation. A cursory glance at my wrist watch tells me that it is indeed well past midnight. That we should be heading home, but my otouto looks so peaceful cuddled up under my trench coat fast asleep on a nearby sofa. Lost in a dreamless sleep, the sleep of the blessed no nightmares disturb his slumber.
Deep down inside I know that I'm being neglectful spending all my spare time holed up in my office. You could call it my 'second home'. I know I should spend some time with him just doing the kind of stuff that brothers do together. Instead he goes to visit them… the Yugi-tachi, before seeking me out up here. It's almost as if he feels compelled to watch over me. Like some kind of guardian angel, if I believed in such nonsense…. which I don't in case you're wondering. Actually that's not entirely strictly true you see at one time I did. It was years ago back at the orphanage; I used to tell my brother that our real mum and dad were watching over us. Now I'm not so sure, I haven't been sure since he came into out lives. Gozaburo Kaiba, the undefeated chess champion, ruthless business man, and our step-father.
My defeat of him was both my greatest stroke of genius and my worst moment of utter stupidity. If I do have guardian angels why the hell didn't they stop me? Or at least try to? I may as well of made a pact the devil himself. Of course I don't believe in him either but Gozaburo is enough to make anyone question that train of belief.
Perhaps Mokuba insists on watching over me to make sure I don't work myself to an early grave. After all we are each other's only real family. Or maybe he's just worried I'll jump from the window to my death, like I told him out step-father did…
I sigh as I stop watching my little brother and cross the short distance from my desk to the offices' large windows. For a brief moment I find myself wondering how it would feel to fall from my death from this window. It's something I've often wondered about, not because I'm suicidal in fact I'm far from it. Nothing will keep me down as long as I have Mokuba, and I refuse to die until I've reclaimed my title as number one duelist. You probably asking yourself why I care so much about a card game. It's a well known fact I developed the holographic dueling arenas and the duel disk as well as owning a theme park dedicated to Duel Monsters. On any other day I'd tell you it was none of your dam business, however this day always, puts me into a strange mood. You see today is the anniversary of his death, yeah that's right my step-father died on this day several years ago. Only he didn't jump like I told all the staff, the press and Mokuba… he was going to jump but the old fool didn't have the guts to go through with it.
So I pushed him.
I see my reflections expression turn into a smirk as I remember his surprised and completely shocked expression as he fell to his demise. He always told me I was weak, that I would never live up to his family name. For years I had to live under his tyranny, and I soon learned to turn the other cheek to his harsh and often entirely undeserved punishments for fear of my otouto's safety. He dragged me through my childhood and teenage years into an early adulthood he wanted me to be just like him. To make money off the suffering of others, to profit from war and the destruction of innocence. As his 'son' I was feared and hated, then when he gave in and let me build the first Kaiba Land I was loved by the other children both younger and older. They admired me and my otouto for my skills and ability to master any game. You see the first Kaiba Land I designed was more of an arcade style amusement centre, it was supposed to be a place for kids from a poorer background to go and have fun. Of course my step-father Gozaburo thought it was all ludicrous, but he's not the one stood here right now. As I look up at the star-filled moon-less night sky, I wonder what my step-father would make of what I've done with his company, of what my real parents would think of the man I have become. Would they be proud of me for everything I have achieved or simply pity me for all I have had to endure, would they weep for my lost childhood?
A lone tear snakes its way lazily down my cheek, no matter how cold I become the memory of my parents is the only thing to stir such a strong response from me. In all honesty, I couldn't tell you whether or not I would want for them to see the man I have become at Gozaburo's hands. That is why I make everyone call me Kaiba, for I stopped being Seto a long time ago. I have worn this mask of cold unyielding, unfeeling indifference for so long now I honestly don't know how to remove it anymore. I have seen the worst of humanity within my step-father, yet he was always able to cling to a fake image of a generous benefactor. Always donating money to good causes, a true wolf in sheep's clothing if you ask me. It surprises me greatly that it never struck anyone that the large sums of money he gave away were really a mere drop in the ocean compared to his fortune.
Still it's dwarfed by the billions I've made in my own right I rebuilt this company from the ground up. Plus I have paid for every little thing with my blood, sweat and tears, except I mean this quite literally. Both my body and my mind carry scars from the harsh home education I received as that man's heir and successor. He groomed me to be a machine, to be cruel, obedient, ruthless a tool to be bent to his will. By the time I was a teenager he had me studying at a degree level.
The tears are falling now, as I remember how I was kept up until all hours of the night and often the early morning. Denied sleep and food, even any time to spend with my brother unless I completed the mountain of work he would assign to me each day. One of the things which kept me going was one of my step-father's household staff. We would play chess together and he even taught me how to play duel monsters. I was devastated when he died, especially when he told me I wasn't allowed to attend the funeral. It would be weeks at a time before I'd get to see my little brother outside of meal times. I remember one day in particular, it was when one of the staff had come into the study carrying a large text book. They told me to be more careful and to take better care of my things. At first I was confused because I'd never seen the book before in my life. However when I opening it I soon discovered there was a hidden compartment within the book where Mokuba had hidden my duel deck with one important addition. A hand drawn blue-eyes white dragon card which he had made for as a birthday present because he didn't have any money to get me anything.
The tears continue to fall as clouds start to form outside and it starts to rain as I open the locket that I keep close to my heart. Inside is a picture of my little brother playing chess with me back when we lived at the orphanage. It's tattered along one side where he ripped the picture in half. Unknown to him I keep the card he made for me in the other side of my locket. As I stare at these two images of my stolen childhood I lean back against the glass. For a few split seconds I contemplate putting my whole weight against the pane of glass and finding out for myself how it feels to fall into oblivion. Then through the unfallen and unbidden tears still blurring my vision I see my still sleeping brother, his serene face reminding me of an angel whose lost his wings and fallen to the Earth forced to live amongst the unworthy human race. With this sudden realization falling onto my shoulders as if it were a ton of bricks falling on top of me, burying me alive I sink to the floor slowly. My back and my hair smudging the glass on my descent to the floor, and I'm thankful that the glass doesn't give nor does it squeak or make any sound. I don't want to wake him as I continue to silently sob.
In silence, the only light coming from the screen of my long since forgotten laptop sitting on my desk, I hug my knees to my chest and weep. For once grateful there are no security cameras in my office, for the first time since I killed my step-father.
Although if I am honest there wasn't just one death that day but two, today isn't just the anniversary of his death. Today is also the anniversary of the day my innocence died. So now I sit here and weep for my stolen childhood, in sorrow for my lost innocence, but also with joy because I realized I do have an angel. He was with me all along but I was just too blind and too stubborn to see.
And his name is Mokuba.
A/N: So what did you think? I only wrote the 1st draft in one and half hours! Then I asked my friend who came over as I was finishing it to read it. He has no idea who Kaiba is but he felt he got good feel for him from this one-shot. I modified it a bit as I typed it up because I felt it was slightly rushed.
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